


Infinite Losses

by DarkPoisonousLove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, TW: Suicide Mention, Tragedy, tw: alcoholsim mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-16 03:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19636450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPoisonousLove/pseuds/DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: MCU AU. Just like the storybook, comic books are more real than originally thought. And now everyone is paying for not realizing this sooner. This was supposed to be an entry for OQPromptParty but it turned into more of a Regal Believer and Dimples Queen story. Angst to the max.





	Infinite Losses

The stillness of the room was both welcoming and sickening. At least the room she’d shared with Robin kept changing through her lonely presence. But Henry’s bedroom had stayed untouched. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to move anything. Even the creases in the bed covers and the pencils scattered haphazardly on the desk–now covered in a thick coat of dust–had stayed exactly the same as Henry had left it. To the point where Regina half expected him to show up at the door with a grumpy expression and get mad at her for entering his room without permission.

And that was when reality hit her. He wouldn’t have been a teenager anymore even if he’d surv- if he was still around. It had been five years since that awful day when half the living creatures had ceased to exist. Thanos had snapped his fingers and they’d turned to ash. Just like all of Henry’s comic books which she’d burned in a fit of rage and grief, and helplessness.

They should have realized it sooner. Fairytales were real. Superheroes were real. Why wouldn’t someone like Thanos be real too? Being too big of a monster certainly wasn’t a reason. Regina knew that well. But it was too late for regret now. It was too late for everything. They’d been too caught up in fighting off threats from the storybook and the universe had been ripped apart by a comic book villain, leaving everyone who survived devastated.

Henry was gone and she couldn’t believe it had been five whole years since she’d last heard him call her mom. She hadn’t even managed to hug him for the last time since she’d been busy holding down Roland who’d been crying for his dad.

Robin had dissolved first, barely having had the time to call for her to take Roland from his arms before he could drop him as he turned to ash. The tears hadn’t even managed to fall from Regina’s eyes before Henry’s cry for her had pierced her ears. By the time she’d found the strength to turn around, he’d already started to dissolve. He’d disappeared completely with one last “I love you, mom” before she’d even gotten the chance to get closer to him and hold him in her arms one last time. Her baby was gone and so was her soulmate.

Snow and David had had more luck since they still had each other and Neal. But Emma’s death had shaken them to their very core. They weren’t the same. The “I will always find you” motto had died with their daughter when she’d been wiped out in the snap. At least she hadn’t had to suffer the consequences of Henry’s death.

Regina had to admit that she envied Emma’s fate. She wished she’d turned into ash too, but she hadn’t had that much luck. Instead, she was left to hold up as best as she could while all she wanted was to drink herself to stupor like Hook. He’d never been sober even for a second after Emma’s death and she wished she could do the same. But she had to take care of Roland. And of Zelena.

She had to make sure that Zelena took her prescribed meds regularly. Without them she was dangerous to others, but mostly to herself. Ever since the baby got caught in the snap, she’d been suicidal. Regina had found her one day bleeding out on the floor and her magic was the only thing that had saved her sister’s life. Though it wasn’t much of a life anymore. Zelena was constantly high on sedatives and antidepressants in order to be kept alive when, in fact, her life had ended the moment she’d lost her daughter. Sometimes Regina thought that she should’ve left her to decide her own fate. She should’ve granted her that mercy. But the thought of losing anyone else was enough to drive her mad. She was barely holding it together as it was and needed all the support she could get even though Zelena could barely provide any in her current state. Still, she’d been selfish and had chosen her own sanity over Zelena’s.

“Regina,” Roland’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. She’d gotten used to him calling her by her full name by now, but she still couldn’t help but mourn the loss of his cheerful “Gina”. He’d become so much quieter and closed off since he’d lost his father. The therapy with Archie had helped minimize the damage but it hadn’t been able to prevent it. He’d not only lost Robin, but also the memories of Marian that his dad had been saving for him in order to allow him to know his mother. All he had now was the woman who’d killed his mother in the original version of the events.

“I’m coming,” she shouted back as she exited Henry’s room. She locked the door to make sure everything would remain untouched, the way Henry had left it, and teleported downstairs. She constantly felt drained of energy and empty but at least she had plenty of grief and anger to fuel her magic.

Roland took a step back when she appeared in the living room. He hated magic. He’d hated it ever since he witnessed his dad turn to ash in what looked like a show of the most terrifying magic imaginable.

It was why she went to grab the keys for the Mercedes. “Let’s go,” she urged softly.

“You’ve cried,” Roland noted dryly as if that was the most normal thing in he world. And it was, really. 

She was so used to the feeling of tears streaming down her cheeks that she couldn’t even tell she was crying anymore. She only noticed when she looked in a mirror–which she mostly avoided these days, hating the image of the pale ghost she’d become–or when someone, usually Roland, told her.

She wiped at her cheeks before grabbing her coat from the coat hanger. “Let’s go,” she repeated since there was nothing else to say. 

They never spoke much anymore since the only things on the tips of their tongues were cries of grief and sobs of anger and helplessness. And they especially didn’t talk when they were headed to the graveyard. The sight of the numerous five-year-old headstones was enough to make anyone wish to never speak again. But with them everything got buried even deeper. Just like the two coffins without headstones hidden deep in her crypt.


End file.
